PAST RBDEMPTION. 4 Acts. Price 25 cts. 

COMRADES. 3 Acts. Price 25 cts. 

TITAN lA. A Fairy Play for Children. 2 Acts. Price 25 cts. 

OUR FOLKS. 3 Acts. Price 15 cts. 
SANTA CLAUS THE FIRST. A Christmns Play for Children. By F. E. Chase. 25 c 
REBECCA'S TRIUMPH. For female characters only. Price 25 cts. 



CEO. M. BAKER'S 
NEW PLAYS. 




Copyright, 1876, by George M. Baker. 



Spencer's Universal Stage. 



A Collection 



COMEDIES, DRAMAS, and FARCES, adapted to either Public or Private 
Performance. Containing a full description of all the 
necessary Stage Business. 
PRICE, 15 CENTS EACH, isa- No Plays Exchanged. 
— I »»■ I 

1. LOST IN LONDON. A Drama in 3 Acts. 



6 male, 4 female characters. 

2. NICHOLAS PLAM. A Comedy in 2 Acta. 

By J. B. Buckstone. 5 male, 3 female char. 

3. THE WELSH Grir,L. A Comedy in 1 Act. 

By Mrs. Flanche. 3 male, '2 female char. 

4. JOHN WOP PS. A Farce in 1 Act By 

W. E. Suter. 4 male, 2 iemale char. 

5. THE TTTKKISH BATH. A Farce in 1 Act. 

By Montague "Williams and F. C. Bumond. 

C male, 1 female char, 
e. THE TWO PTJDDIFOOTS. A Farce in 1 

Act. By J. M. Morton. 3 male, 3 female char. 
7. OLD HONESTY. A Comic Drama in 2 

Acts. By J. JI. Morton. 5 male- 2 female char. 
B. TWO GENTLEMEN IN A FIX. A 

Farce in 1 Act. By W. E. Suter. 2 male char. 
9. SMASHINGTON GOIT. A Farce in 1 Act 

By T. J. Williams. 5 male, 3 liemale char. 

10. TWO HEADS BETTER THAN ONE. A 

Farce in 1 Act. By Lenox Home. 4 male, 
1 female char. 

11. JOHN DOBBS. A Farce in 1 Act, ByJ.M. 

Morton. 5 male, 2 female char. 

12. THE DAITGHTER of the REGIMENT, 

A Drama in 2 Acts. By Edward Fitzball. 

6 male, 2 female char. 
fS. AUNT CHARLOTTE'S MAID. AFarceinl 

Act. By J. M. Morton. 3 male; 3 female char. 
14 BROTHER BILL AND ME. A Farce in 

1 Act By W. E. Suter. 4 male, 3 female char. 

15. DONE ON BOTH SIDES. A Farce in 1 

Act. By J. M. Morton. 3 male, 2 female char. 

16. DDNDTJCKETTY'S PICNIC. A Farce in 1 

Act. By T. J. Williams. G male, 3 female char. 

17. I'VE WRITTEN TO BROWNE. A Farce 

in 1 Act. By T. J. Williams. 4 male, 3 female 

char. 
19. MY PRECIOUS BETSY. A Farce in 1 

Act By J. M. Morton. 4 male, 4 female char. 
SO. MY TURN NEXT. A Farce in 1 Act By 

T. J. Williams. 4 male, 3 female char. 

22. THE PHANTOM BREAKFAST. A Farce 

in 1 Act By Chas. Selby. .j male, 2 female char. 

23. DANDELION'S DODGES. A Farce in 1 

Act. By T. J. Williams. 4 ma'.c, 2 female char. 

24. A SLICE OP LUCK. A Farce in 1 Act By 

J. M. Morton. 4 male, 2 female char. 

25. ALWAYS INTENDED. A Comedy in 1 

Act By Horace W igan. 3 male, 3 female char. 
26 A BULL IN A CHINA SHOP. A Comedy 
in 2 Acts. By Charles Matthews. 6 male, 4 
female char. 

27. ANOTHER GLASS, A Drama in 1 Act By 

Thomas Morton. G male, 3 female char. 

28. BOWLED OUT. AFarceinl Act ByH. 

T. Craven. 4 male, 3 female char, 

29. COUSIN TOM. A Commedietta in 1 Act. By 

Geo. Roberts. 3 male, 2 female char. 
SO. SARAH'S YOUNG MAN. A Farce in I 

Act By W. E. Suter. 3 male, 3 female char. 
31. HIT HIM, HE HAS NO FRIENDS. A 

Farce in 1 Act. By E. Yates and N, H. Har- 
rington. 7 male, 3 female char. 
3J, THE CHRISTENING, A Farce in 1 Act. 

By J. B. Buckstone. 5 male 6 female char. 
3S, A RACE FOR A WIDOW. A Farce in 1 

Act. ByT. J. Williams. 5 male, 4 female char. 
84. YOUR LIFE'S IN DANGER. A Farce in 

1 Act By J. M. Morton. 3 male, 3 female char. 
35, TRUE UNTO DEATH. A Drama in 2 Acts. 

Bv J. Sheridan Knowles. 6 male, 2 female char. 



36. DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND. An Interlude 
in 1 Act By W. H. Murray. 10 male, 1 female 
char. 



A Farce in 1 Act 
6 male, 1 female 



By 



By J, 



37. LOOK AFTER BROWN. 

By George A. Stuart, M. D. 
char. 

38. MONSEIGNEUR. A Drama in 3 Acts. 

Thomas Archer. 15 male, 3 female char. 

39. A VERY PLEASlkNT EVENING. A 

Farce in 1 Act By W. E. Suter. 3 male char. 

40. BROTHER BEN. A Farce in 1 Act 

M. Morton. 3 male, 3 female char. 

41. ONLY A CLOD. A Comic Drama in 1 Act 

By J. P. Simpson. 4 male, 1 female char. 

42. GASPARDO THE GONDOLIER. A 

Drama in 3 Acts. By George Almar. 10 male, 

2 female char, 

43. SUNSHINE THROUGH THE CLOUDS, 

A Drama in 1 Act. By Slingsby Lawrence. 3 
male, 3 female char. 

44. DON'T JUDGE BY APPEARANCES. A 

Farce in 1 Act By J. M. Morton. 3 male, 2 
female char. 

45. NURSEY CHICKWEED. AFarceinl Act 

By T. J. Williams. 4 male, 2 lemale char. 

46. MARY MOO ; or. Which shall I Marry? 

A Farce in 1 Act. By W. £. Suter. 2 male, 1 
female char. 

47. EAST LYNNE, A Drama in 5 Acts, 8 male, 

7 female char, 

48. THE HIDDEN HAND. A Drama in 5 Acts. 

By Robert Joues. 16 male, 7 female char. 

49. SILVERSTONE'S WAGER. A Commedi- 

etta in 1 Act. By R. R. Andrews. 4 male, 3 fe- 
male char, 

50. DORA. A Pastoral Drama in 3 Acts. By Chas. 

Reade. 5 male, 2 female char. 

55. THE WIPE'S SECRET. A Play in 6 Acts. 

By Geo. W. Lovell. 10 male, 2 female char. 

56. THE BABES IN THE WOOD. A Com- 

edy in 3 Acts. By Tom Taylor. 10 male, 3 le- 
male char. 

57. PUTKINS ; Heir 1 y Castleg in the Air. 

A Comic Drama in i Act By W. R. Emersou. 
2male, 2fe.i.alc char, 

58. AN UGLY CUSTOMER. AFarceinl Act 

By Th^mjs J. Williams. 3 male, 2 female cJiar. 

59. BLUE AND CHERRY. A Comedy in 1 Act 

3 male, 2 female char. 

60. A DOUBTFUL VICTORY. A Comedy in 

1 Act 3 male, 2 female char. 

61. THE SCARLET LETTER. A Drama in 3 

Acts. 8 male, 7 female char. 

62. WHICH WILL HAVE HIM? A Vaude- 

ville. 1 male, 2 female char. 

63. MADAM IS ABED. A Vaudeville in 1 Act. 

2 male, 2 female char. 

64. THE ANONYMOUS KISS. AVaudeviUe, 

2 male, 2 female char. 
65.^HE CLEFT STICK. A Comedy in 3 Acts. 
5 male, 3 female char. 

66. A SOLDIER. A SAILOR, A TINKER, 

AND A TAILOR. AFarceinlAci 4 male, 
2 female char. 

67. GIVE A DOG A BAD NAME. A Farce, 

2 male, 2 female char. 

68. DAMON AND PYTHIAS, A Farce. 6 

male, 4 female char. 

69. A HUSBAND TO ORDER. A Serio-comic 

Drama in 2 Acts. 5 male, 3 female char. 

70. PAYABLE ON DEMAND. A Domestic 

Drama in 2 Acts. 7 male, 1 female char. 



Descriptive Catalogue mailed free on application to 

Geo. M. Baker & Co., 47 Franklin St., Boston. 



POISON 



SI JFarce. 



AS PERFORMED 

By "the hasty PUDDING CLUB^ 

OF HARVARD UNIVERSITY. 



ji APR 25 1332 



BOSTON: 
GEORGE M. BAKER AND COMPANY. 

1882. 






Copyright, 1882, 
By George M. Baker. 



All Rights Reservtd. 



TMP96-006903 



POISON. 

A FARCE. 

AS ACTED AT THE HASTY PUDDING CLUB, HARVARD 
COLLEGE, DEC. 20TH, 1 88 1. 



CHARACTERS : 

Mr. Theophilus Twitters, a retired sugar 

merchant E. J. Wendell. 

Gottlieb Hunker, honorary sec7'etary of the 

society for the preventioft of capital . . J. E. Webb. 

Dr. Charles Squillcox, an apothecary in 

love with Clara F. C. Woodbury. 

Clara Twitters H. C. French. 

The Mother of the late Mrs. Twitters, 

A. Matthews. 

Mary Jane R. T. Babson. 

Officer of the Law H. M. Hubbard. 



Scene. — Breakfast-room of the suburban villa of Mr. Twit- 
ters. The 7nother of the late Mrs. Twitters and Mary 
Jane are discovered. 

Mary Jane. But I tell you this is Mr. Twitters' break- 
fast, mum. There's no telhng what he'll do if he don't catch 
the train this morning. He's ordered the horse ready since 
seven o'clock. 

Mother {breaking art egg). In the midst of life we are in 
death. I have left my humble lodgings this morning to at- 
tend the interment of the remains of our late pastor, the 
Rev. Dr. Elijah Faddy a hot muffin, Mary Jane ! 

Mary Jane. What will master say, mum t There won't 
be no breakfast left. He has the alarm-clock set in his hat- 
bath to wake him at seven, and it made such a noise, mum, 
that he flung it out the window and went to sleep again. And 



4 POISON. 

he's been rampaging round and ordering breakfast on the table 
for the last hour. 

Mother. The carriage will serve me in my sad errand. 
I have a floral tribute in this box to place upon the grave of 

the dear departed, a little more hot toast, Mary Jane, 

an anchor, expressive of hope and Christian resignation. It 
will be but a trifle among the many offerings. The Rev. Mr. 
Paddy never knew how many friends he had until he was 
dead {breakins^ another egg). 

Mary Jane. You're eating the last ^gg, mum. 

Mother. I grieve that there is no other ^gg, but this 
will suffice to support me through the trying ceremony. He 
was an eminent Christian,— he had three wives. {Dell ri?igs.) 
■ Twitters {without, calli?ig). Has that thundering shoe- 
maker sent my new boots .'' 

Mary Jane {calling at door). Just come. sir. 

Mother. Cease this unseemly noise, girl {rising), sum- 
mon the equipage. 

Mary Jane. The equipage, mum.? I didn't see you 
come in no carriage. 

Mother. My limited earthly resources do not permit me 
to provide myself with such luxuries. I shall use one of 
your master's. My poor, dear, departed daughter, did not 
survive to enjoy his prosperity. I do. 

Mary Jane. But he wants the carriage to go to the train, 
mum. 

Mother. Trains go hourly. {Takes iip a box. Exit.) 

Mary Jane {standing at window). Well, if the late 
Mrs. Twitters was like this mother of hers, it ain't no wonder 
that master's kind of fidgety like. There,— she's got hold of 
John, now, and she's stepping into the carriage that was go- 
ing to take master to the train. And she's druv off" ! Oh, 
deary me. What vicious things elderly women can be. {En- 
ter Twitters hastily.) 

Twitters {Looking at watch). I shall have a close 
shave for the 9-20 train, but 1 think I can manage it. Break- 
fasts ready of course, of course .-* 

Mary Jane, It was ready sir. 

Twitters {approaching table). Why, what on earth 
does this mean 1 

Mary Jane. The mother of the late Mrs. Twitters — 



POISON. 5 

Twitters. The devil ! 

Mary Jane. No, sir, the mother of — 

Twitters. Is she here .? {IViih feeling.^ 

Mary Jane. No, sir, she's o^one, 

Twitters. Something ghoulish is going on somewhere, 
then, or she would have stayed. That women is a perfect 
'vulture. If anything horrible happens to anybody she comes 
pouncing down to gloat over it. I'm becoming a fiend, my- 
self; I rejoice in the news of any misfortune, for it means 
temporary deliverance for me from her — has she eaten every- 
thing 1 

Mary Jane. All there was, sir. 

Twitters. How soon can you get some more 1 

Mary Jane. It'll be ten minutes, sir. 

Twitte?vS. I shall have to breakfast in town, then. I 
must be off. John's here, of course ? 

Mary Jane. No, sir, he's took. 

Twitters. Good heavens ! A fit .^ 

Mary Jane. No, sir; the mother of the late Mrs. Twit- 
ters. 

Twitters. Where has she taken him ? 

Mary Jane. To the funeral obelisk of an Irish gentle- 
man, sir. 

Twitters. To Parson Paddy's funeral ? 

Mary Jane. That's just it, sir. 

Twitters. I hated that man, but his death caused me 
deep sorrow. Her cap was set at him. I must run for the 
train. Where are my boots ? Ah, here ! {Opening a box 
and producing a funeral wreath) what in the name of nature 
is this ? 

Mary Jane. It's her's, sir; she's been and gone and 
took the boots to the burying, and she's left nothing behind 
but Christian resignation. 

Twitters. Damn Christian resignation. {Pitches box 
across stage ; a letter falls out ; he picks it up and opens it 
during speech) Call Miss Clara and tell her I'll break- 
fast with her. I can't get to town till eleven, now. And get 
something uncommonly good to eat, mind you. A bad tem- 
per needs good food. 

Mary Jane. Yes, sir ; I noticed, sir, how the old lady 
had a fine appetite. 



6 POISON. 

Twitters {severely). Speak civilly of mernbers of my 
family, if you expect to keep your place. {Gla7icing at 
paper., which he has taken from envelope.) Why, the damned 
old harridan. 

Mary Jane. Yes, sir. {Exit.) 

Twitters {reading). " Theophilus Twitters, Esq., to 
Grimsby & Weeper, florists. Funeral orders attended with 
despatch in the latest and tastiest styles. To one Christian 
resignation, roses, immortelles, etc., $15. A prompt pay- 
ment is requested." Then in pencil : " For the sake of our 
departed Sarah you will please meet this little account." 
This is the last straw. I'm a strong camel but my back 
breaks at this. Fll give orders that she shan't be let into the 
house. And as for this bill, here goes {goes to table and 
writes): " Grimsby & Weeper ; sirs: I won't pay this ras- 
cally, swindling bill, or any other. T. Twitters." {I\i?igs 
bell, then sealing letter.) That will settle Christian resigna- 
tion, I reckon. {Enter Charles.) 

Charles {standing in door with hand/til of letters^ tim- 
idly). Mr. T- Twitters— 

Twitters {not looking^ up). Come here. 

Charles {approaching timidly). Yes, Mr. T-Twitters. 

Twitters. Take this to the post and look sharp. 

Charles. But I've just come from the post, sir. 

Twitters. What's that to me ? {Looking up.) Dear me, 
Charles, I ihouo;ht you were my man. Seen the paper .'* 

Charles. Ive brought it in, sir. 

Twitters {seizin<f it). How's Harshaw this morning.'' 

Charles. Wiiy, I never thought of looking, sir. If it 
had occurred to me that you'd have liked to know — 

Twitters. 38 7-8 ! Three per cent, rise ! I'm six thous- 
and in pocket ! {With a sigh.) You're a lucky dog, Charles ; 
you don t t'emble whenever you look at a stock-list. 

Charles. No, sir ; I don't seem to look at one, often. 
{A'ervous.) You're surprised to see me at this hour, I sup- 
pose ? 

Twitters. Hadn't been — but now you mention it, I am. 

Charles. You see, I happened in at the post-office, and 
I saw your mail, and I thought that you might like to have 
me leave it at your house on my way home. 
_ Twitters {laughing). You're a sly dog, Charles. What 
time do I go to town ? 



POISON. 7 

Charles. Why, 9-20 I 'spose, sir. 

Twitters {pointing to watch). At this moment it's 9-25, 
you young rascal, and you have the impudence to say that 
you came to see me. {Enter Mary Jane.) 

Mary Jane. Did you ring, sir 1 

Twitters. Yes. Take this letter to the post, and look 
sharp {handing letter which he has written) \ and, I say, 
tell Miss Clara that there's a gentleman here that wants to 
see her. {Exit Mary Jane.) 

Charles. Here are your letters, Mr. Twitters. I assure 
you — 

Twitters. I like your little game, Charles, I like it. 
Perhaps Clara'll like it, too, you young MachiavelH. Now 
don't pretend you didn't come to see her. Six thousand in, 
by Jove. I must sell out Harshaw as soon as I get to town. 
Bottom's sure to fall out of it. {Enter Clara with water- 
ingpot.) 

Clara. Good morning, papa dear, {kisses him.) Why, 
Dr. Squillcox, are you here ? 

Twitters. As if you didn't expect him. 

Clara. How can you say such things, papa ? 

Charles. Yes, Mr. Twitters, it's most unjust — 

Clara. If I had expected anybody, should I have 
brought in this great, heavy watering-pot } 

Charles. Can't I hold it Miss Clara ? {takes it?) 

Clara. I was going to water my flowers in the garden. 

Twitters. Go along, my dear : and go along with her, 
you rascal. {Laughs. Exeunt Charles and Clara laugh- 
ing.) 

Twitters {rubbing his hands). There they go. It does 
my heart good to think that my little Clara has such a good 
fellow to look after her ; and that I can act as the ways and 
means committee. I'll take care that their love shan't fly 
out of the window. {Opetts letter.) Here's the plumber's 
bill. Old Faucet will be rolling in his carriage soon. If 
Charles gets tired of medicine I'll set him up as a plumber. 
{Opens another letter.) Clara's milHner's bill. Egad! how 
Charles' eyes would open, if they tried love in a cottage ou 
his professional outcome. Hollo ! What's this ? Shabby 
looking letter addressed in a shabby hand. Another bill, I 
suppose. No. What's this ? {Reads.) " Theophilus Twit- 



8 POISON. 

ters, Bloated Bond-holder. I am a foe to capital and the 
Grand-master of a secret society organized to cripple said 
capital, to muzzle monopolists, and to elevate the horny- 
handed son of toil." You have a good-sized contract, my 
friend. " When the copartnership of Tollgate & Twitters 
engaged in their corner in sugar, and robbed the poor of the 
luxuries of a free breakfast-table, our society determined to 
foil you. As their agent, I secretly entered the warehouse in 
which your hoard of sugar was stored, and secreted in vari- 
ous spots amidst the innocent condiment no less than twelve 
pounds of arsenic. After having done this, I notified your 
partner, the aforesaid diabolical Tollgate, of my action, and 
apprised him that all the sugar must be destroyed, — else 
poison would be thrown broadcast upon the world. You, as 
his partner, are affected with notice of this. (As a foe to 
capital, I have incidentally been trained as a lawyer.) The 
aforesaid diabolical Tollgate, with your connivance," — Damn 
law words. I hate 'em — " With your connivance sold the 
sugar. Through secret channels the deadly grains of arsenic 
are distilled into the veins of society. The blushing damsel, 
receiving taffy from her lover, curls up and dies. The fond 
mother, pouring out her children's cambric tea, gives them 
the black wine of death, Candy-shops are charnel-houses! 
Society gatherings are volcanos ! Ice-cream leads to the 
grave ! And all through you, most miserable of mortals, who 
lie soft and count your ill-gotten wealth." {Enter Mary 
Jane wM coffee. He starts to drink^ " But even you are 
not exempt from the insidious enemy. The very cup of cof- 
fee that you may now be raising to your lips may call you to 
judgment." {Drops coffee cup) What sinful nonsense. I 
shouldn't give it a thought if it didn't charge my poor dead 
partner with such villany. And Tollgate was a Sunday- 
school superintendent. {Enter Mary Jane with break- 
fast.) 

Mary Jane. The letter's mailed, sir. 

Twitters. Letter .? What do you know about the letter ? 

Mary Jane. Sure, you gave it to me, sir. 

Twitters. No such thing. Ah, to be sure ! How absurd 
to be so discomposed. So breakfast's ready t 

Mary Jane {arranging table). Yes, sir. 

Twitters {after a short pause^ during which he has 



POISON. 9 

fidf:;eted). By the way, Mary Jane, you haven't happened to 
hear much illness about of late. Have you .-* 

Mary Jane. Why, sir, there has been folks go off sudden. 

Twitters. You don't say so ? Who .'' 

Mary Jane. Well, sir ; there was poor Mr. Tollgate. 

Twitters. Apoplexy — apoplexy, beyond all doubt. 
Caused by the success of our corner. 

Mary Jane. Then, sir, there was my grandmother, only 
last week, sir. 

Twitters. Yes, I remember. But I've remarked that 
that melancholy event has happened twenty-seven times in 
the course of the year. I infer that your grandfather was a 
Mormon. 

Mary Jane. Which I consider that remark most unfeeling, 
sir. And what with waiting on the mother of the late Mrs. 
Twitters, sir, and getting two breakfasts for you, and having 
my own grandfather abused, sir, I cannot submit to it, sir. 

Twitters. Leave the room, girl. 

Mary Jane. Which I shall take pleasure in leaving, sir, 
this day week, sir. {Exit) 

Twitters {playing with h-eakfast things). All right. It's 
absurd to think of this matter. In ninety-nine cases out of 
a hundred an anonymous letter is a lie, but if this should turn 
out to be the hundredth 1 should be a Borgia. Heavens. 
What a situation. Why, even my poor daughter would be 
blighted. I could never permit her to marry and to perpetu- 
ate a crime-stained race. I wonder what the effect of arsenic is. 
Happy thought. I'll look it up in my encyclopaedia. Glad 
to put the thing to some use. {Takes down the vohane.) 
A-r-t — a-r-s-e-n-i-c. That's it. {Reads.) " Arsenic is one 
of the most violent of the acrid poisons. Its use in medicine 
and toxicological properties are treated under medical juris- 
prudence." Damn it. Just my luck. {Looks at bookcase 
again.) My set stops at " Lam." Pooh ! Pooh ! Why, 
even if the whole tiling were true, twelve pounds. {Looks at 
Ltter.) Yes, he says twelve pounds — in a whole warehouse 
full of sugar would't do more than improve the complexion of 
the public. I should be a benefactor. {Enter Charles and 
Clara.) 

Clara. Is breakfast all ready, papa, dear.? I'm dread- 
fully hungry. 



10 POISON. 

Twitters. Quite ready, dear. 

Charles. Where shall I put this ? It's very heavy. 

Twitters. Heavy ? 

Charles. Yes, you see it is quite full of water. I'm 
afraid of wetting the carpet, you see. 

Clara. Why ! Sure enough ! We forgot to water the 
flowers ! 

Twitters. Forgot it, eh ? Young people have queer 
memories, nowadays. Put that confounded thing in the hall, 
Charles. You are a medical man. How do you account for 
the curious prevalence of sudden death .'' 

Charles {returiiitig from hall door). Why, I haven't 
thought much about it. 

Twitters. The newspapers talk about arsenic in wall 
papers. Nonsense, don't you think so ? 

Charles {soaring to professiotial fluency). Not a bit of 
it. Arsenic is the most deadly of drugs. 

Twitters. Oh, you don't say so .'' 

Clara. What a disagreeable subject ! Come to break- 
fast, papa dear. {At table.) 

Twitters. Stop, Clara, we are not ready for food ; I am 
interested in this matter. How deadly is arsenic — how 
much would kill ? 

Charles. Well, in wall-papers it's one thing; in the 
stomach, it is another. 

Twitters. Take stomachs. I'm interested. 

Charles. It's only common prudence to have your wall- 
paper tested {looking at paper) ; I don't like that green. 

Twitters. Confound it, sir ; I'm talking about stomachs. 

Clara. Papa dear, aren't you ready ? 

Twitters. Don't interrupt us. Charles — how much 
arsenic will kill ? 

Charles. "A deadly dose for an adult is five grains. 

Twitters. How do you weigh it .'' How many grains to 
the pound ? 

Charles. Twenty grains make a scruple — there are 
three scruples in a dram — that's sixty grains — in an ounce 
there are eight drams — that makes four hundred and eighty 
— and in a pound there are twelve ounces — twelve times 
four hundred and eighty are five thousand seven hundred and 
sixty. 



POISON. I r 

Twitters. Then a pound will kill — ? 

Charles. Five into five once — into seven, once and two 
over — into twenty-six, five times and one over — and into ten 
twice. A pound would kill about eleven hundred and fifty- 
two able-bodied men. 

Twitters {to himself). Twelve times eleven hundred and 
— good heavens. {Sinks into chair.) 

Clara. Charles is going to breakfast with us, papa dear. 

Twitters. Charles ! What do you mean by speaking of 
Dr. Squillcox by his Christian name .'* 

Clara. Why — yoii do, papa dear. 

Twitters. Yes ; but I'm not a marriageable young 
woman. 

Clara {to Charles'). You had better speak, dear. 

Charles. Mr. Twitters — the fact is — 

Clara. Yes, papa ; the fact is — 

Twitters. The fact is, young man, that you have come 
here before cock-crow, pretending to bring the mail to me — 
gauzy pretext — 

Charles. I assure you, Mr. Twitters, I did nothing of 
the sort. 

Clara. By no means, papa dear. He came to see me ; 
and he is going to ask you — 

Twitters. I see what he's at. I consider your behavior 
surreptitious, sir. What have you to recommend you .'* 

Clara. He has my love, papa dear. That's cdljyou have 
but a little money. Now be a dear, good, sweet papa. 

Twitters. Sweet! Oh — 42,000 grains — I have your 
love, then ? 

Clara. Why, yes, papa. 

Twitters. Very good. I don't choose to share it. Your 
conduct is little better than robbery, sir. You ought to blush 
redder than the bottles that conceal the poverty of your stock 
in trade. 

Charles. My calling is respectable, sir. 

Twitters. Then follow its example in your conduct, sir. 

Charles. I shall, sir. (Going.) 

Clara. Charles, are you going away ? 

Charles. Naturally. 

Twitters. And naturally, sir, you won't expect to return ? 

Charles. Naturally not, sir. {Exit.) 



1-2 POISON. 

Twitters {aside). There he goes ; worthy young fellow. 
But while this arsenic is hanging over my head there must be 
no thought of love or marriage in this fated home. Clara, 
dear, don't let this trouble you, 

Clara. O, papa, I don't know which of you troubles me 
most. You are so harsh and Charles was so — so — 

Twitters. Pusillanimous, Clara. A single rebuff was 
enough for him. 

Clara {nying). O, dear ! O, dear ! 

Twitters (^patting her shoulder). There, dear, there ! 
Remember, as long as I live you have some one to love 
you. 

Clara. But it isn't the same thing. 

Twitters. No, the honest love of a father is lasting — 
come to breakfast. 

Clara ingoing to table sobbing). T-two lumps in your 
coffee, papa .'' 

Twitters {with emphasis). Great Heavens ! No ! (^Re- 
coverittg himself.) That has been my usual dose. 

Clara. Dose! {Sobbing again.) O dear ! Poor Charles ! 

Twitters {aside). A deadly dose for an adult is five 
grains — twelve times eleven hundred and fifty-two — enough 
to kill twenty-five thousand women and children. The board 
of water commissioners are a choir of white-robed angels 
beside my partner if this is true. Why will you put so much 
sugar in your coffee, dear? You make it a perfect liqueur ! 

Clara. I always had a sweet tooth. 

Twitters. A sweet tooth le-^ds through a heap of den- 
tist's bills to a set of false ones. I can't have you eating 
these horrid sweet things, candies, sweet-meats, ices, and 
jams. Your dentist's bills ruin — {he has p7illed her coffee 
cup towards him, and put salt into it). 

Clara. What are you doing with my coffee, papa ? 

Twitters. Putting salt in it ; it's not coffee that hurts 
you, it's the mixture of coffee and sugar. I read somewhere 
that coffee and sugar together make leather. 

Clara. No, papa ; tea and milk. 

Twitters. Coffee and sugar ! {Asidj.) Of course the let- 
ter's a hoax. It doesn't disconcert me. But to think of my 
partner having a monument detailing his Christian virtues I 
He always passed the contribution box, and. now I think of 



POISON. 13 

it, he used to have a great deal of loose change of a Monday. 
Read me the paper, dear. 

Clara. I don't like reading aloud. The newspapers 
are so full of politics and murders and business and acci- 
dents. 

Twitters. I regard the daily paper as a necessary part 
of every young girl's education. Here it is. 

Clara (j-eading). " Double hanging in Atlanta ! Per- 
nicious poisoning. A diabolical crime." 

Twitters {starting). Eh ! 

Clara {readijig). "A man poisoned by lemonade ad- 
ministered by his wife. The post-mortem reveals distinct 
traces of arsenic in the stomach." 

Twitters Clara ! Where was it ? 

Clara. O, in Kalamazoo, or some such horrid western 
place. 

Twitters. Kalamazoo ! Great heavens ! 

Clara. How can a horrid man in Kalamazoo concern us.'* 

Twitters. In no way my dear. (^Aside.) I must dis- 
semble — go on. 

Clara (^reading). " The unfortunate couple were well 
known in the highest social circles. The married life of the 
twain had been unmarred by a cloud. It seems most strange 
that a train of circumstantial evidence is wound around the 
unhappy wife, which points " — {stops). Papa, dear, how can 
a chain point. 

Twitters. Continue your reading, flippant girl. 

Clara {reading). " Which points at her as the murderess. 
It seems that, with a noteworthy economy, she alone of the 
household had access to the sugar barrel." {Turns and 
refolds paper.) 

Twitters {aside). The sugar barrel! In far-off Kala- 
mazoo! That letter bears the stamp of truth. 

Clara {having folded paper, reads). " The lemonade 
was prepared with her own hands. Traces of arsenic were 
found in the glass from which the victim drank his last drink ; 
and in the barrel of sugar, which had but just arrived from 
the highlv respectable store of Spicer & Co., not less than 
half an ounce has already been discovered — " What stupid 
stuff! Why, papa I What is the matter ? 

Twitters {with his head on his ha^ids. in agony). Noth- 



14 POISON. 

ing, my dear nothing. It is so terrible to think of all that 
suffering (^Enter Hunker'). 

Hunker. Mr. Twitters, I believe. 

Twitters. Yes, what do you want ? {Seizing and pock- 
eting paper.) 

Hunker. Your servant was not disposed to introduce 
me, so I take the liberty of introducing myself. 

Twitters. I'm not well this morning, sir. 

Hunker {sitting dowii^ Naturally enough. The morn- 
ing news doesn't agree with you, I presume. 

Twitters {nervous). I don't understand you. 

Hunker. I have a little business with you — rather pri- 
vate nature. You might prefer to have our young friend 
here leave the room. 

Clara {rising with dignity)- I am going, papa. 

Hunker. Good day — Miss Twitters, I reckon — 
pleased to have met you. Hope to see more of you. {Exit 
Clara.) 

Twitters. And now, sir, who are you ? 

Hunker "A foe to capital, and the grand master of a 
society organized to cripple said capital, muzzle monopolists 
and elevate the horny-handed son of toil" — at your service, 
sir. 

Twitters. Ah, you wrote me a letter this morning 1 

Hunker. I did. 

Twitters. The writers of anonymous letters are dealt 
with according to the law. 

Hunker. So are venders of poisoned food. 

Twitters. I don't believe a word of your story. 

Hunker {calmly and deliberately producing papers, which 
he turns over). I have proofs that arsenic was in the sugar, 
that the sugar was sold by the copartnership of Tollgate & 
Twitters, that one if not both of said firm knew of this rather 
unpleasant adulteration, {Twitters grabs at papers.) Don't 
lose your self-control, Twitters, I never do. There are cop- 
ies. 

Twitters. Granting your proofs, then, — supposing the 
whole thing true, you, the poisoner, will suffer more than I, 
the victim. 

Hunker {calmly). I shall turn State's evidence. 

Twitters {sinking back in chair). Good heavens I 



POISON. 15 

Hunker. See here. Twitters. I'm a fair minded man. 
In practically maintaining sound economic principles, I've 
concocted a scrape. We're both in it. We must back 
each other up. 

Twitters. What do you want me to do ? 

Hunker. Well, I ain't comfortable. 

Twitters. Neither am I. 

Hunker. Naturally ; you don't like the prospect of hang- 
ing, and I don't like the prospect of continuing to breakfast 
from early morning milk-cans, and to bone newspapers to 
keep me in tobacco. Now, you make me comfortable and I'll 
guarantee you shan't swing. 

Twitters. Well, well, hov/ much do you want ? 

Hunker. I aint mean in money matters. Let's see — 
By Jove, Twitters, I like the looks of this box of yours. I'll 
make you a visit. 

Twitters. I'm not joking, sir. 

Hunker. No more am I, — I have proofs; first, that 
arsenic was in the sugar ; second — 

Twitters. I must yield. 

Hunker. All right. Twitters, You're more intelligent 
than you look. 

Twitters. I have a good back room. 

Hunker. I prefer a front one. 

Twitters. The front one is mine. 

Hunker. Sorry to inconvenience you, I'm sure, but I 
can't put up with a back one. 

Twitters {aside). Crimes do come home to roost with a 
vengeance ! {Aloud.) Where is your trunk ? 

Hunker. Would you believe it, Twitters, I've shoved up 
every thundering rag that ain't on my back. I'll borrow of 
you. 

Twitters. This passes patience. 

Hunker. It's hard to bear; but your clothes are good, 
if they aint handsome. I aint proud. But proud or not, I 
wmt a bath. If youll beheve it, Twitters, I've not bathed 
since — but we won't be unpleasant and vulgar, will we ? 

Twitters. The servant will show you to the bath-room. 

Hunker. You'd better do it yourself. Twitters ; I don't 
like to lose sight of you — not that you're so awful handsome 
to look at, but — you twig ? Thanks, \\\ sample your strong 



1 6 POISON. 

waters {pouring brandy from decanter to goblet and drinking. 
Where's the bath-room ? 

Twitters. This way. 

Hunker. All right. Now you treat me fair, and I'll 
treat you fair. {Smacking his lips.) I'm square. That's 
prime tipple. {Exeunt.) 

Charles {appearing at witidoiv). Nobody's here. _ I 
must see Clara ! {Door opens.) I wouldn't be seen. Twit- 
ters is capable of setting dogs on me. {Dodges down. Enter 
Clara.) 

Clara. Papa ! Is that horrid man gone ? Papa .'' 

Charles {appearing again). Hush ! 

Clara {startingand turnim^). Oh ! — It's you, and crawl- 
ing through the vvindow. Dr. Squillcox. 

Charles. " Dr. Squillcox." O, Clara — come here. 

Clara {approaching window). I hate you. If you had 
really loved me you would have shown more courage with 
papa. 

Charles. It was insane of me to ask a man for his 
daughter's hand before he had eaten his breakfast. {Takes 
her hand.) But it's all serene, little girl. I'll make it well. 
{Kisses her.) 

Clara. It doesn't make it well at all. 

Charles. I have such an immense plan. You must be 
taken very ill, this afternoon. Your father will forget his dys- 
pepsia in worrying over you. All remedies they give you 
must fail. Old Dr. Parkinson is away, and — 

Clara {clapping her hands). And papa will have to send 
for you. At your' first powder — you mustn't give me pills 
— I can't take them — Til get well immediately. 

Charles. And your papa, delighted at my skill, will give 
your hand to your preserver. 

Clara. How clever you are, Charles ! {A'oise without.) 
Go away. Somebody's coming. {Charles disappears.) 

{Enter Twitters.) 

Twitters {advancing thoughtfully., aside). I wonder if 
the brand of Cain is perceptible upon my brow. To think 
that I should be the cause of all this suffering ! That no 
day may pass without a death which proper investigation 



POISON. 17 

might lay at my door ! That all my life must be passed with 
this terrible man. J cannot endure it ! (SUs down.) 

Clara {approachin^^ him). Why, papa, you look ill. 

Twitters. Ill ! Yes, this is a wicked world, Clara. I 
meant to strew your path with roses, to hide from you the 
villainy — 

Hunker {without, shouting). Towels, Twitters. 

Clara, O, dear ! What'is that ? 

Twitters {rising). It is the voice of fate. {Calling.) 
Coming, sir. 

Clara. What do you mean ? 

Hunker {without). Found 'em ! No matter ! 

Twitters. A gentleman is come to stay with me, dear ; 
and while he is here, we shall have so much business togeth- 
er that I have been thinking that it might be well for you to 
visit your kind grandmother. 

Clara. But I don't want to. Grandma has horrid things 
to eat. Who ij this gentleman ? 

Twitters. You saw him here, this morning. 

Clara. That horrid, dirty man ! 

Twitters. An old friend of my boyhood, Clara — a 
worthy man, whom the world has dog's-eared by hard usage. 
I am superior to prejudice, but I cannot expect you to be. 

Clara. I should hope not. 

Twitters. So you had better go at once, dear. I'll send 
your things. He is rough, I know, but he has a gentle, kind 
heart — 

Hunker {without). I say. Twitters ! Where are you ? 
Damn you ! 

Twitters {calling). Here, sir. {To Clara.) Go away, 
dear, quickly. 

{Clara goes toward doon As she reaches it, Hunker ap- 
pears and 7neets her, face to face. He is showily dressed in 
clot lies of Twitter s\ somewhat too S7nall). 

Hunker {bowing). Much obliged, miss ; you were com- 
ing to show me the way, I 'spose. I've found it, you see. I 
heard your lovely voice. 

Twitters. My daughter was going out, Mr. Hunker. 

Hunker. I guess she'd better not. It ain't a nice day out. 

Clara. I beg your pardon, air. 

Hunker. Twitters, this young woman mustn't go out. 
Do you twig ? 



1 8 POISON. 

Clara. Good-bye, papa. 

Twitters. You had better stay, dear. {Clara stops^ 
amazed.) 

Hunker. So I think. {Drawing long breathy I feel 
hke a new man, and I'm going to give the new man a drink. 
{Pouring oat brandy agaifi.) What's her name, Twitters ? 

Twitters. My daughter is named Clara, sir. 

Hunker. Lovely name. Here's to Clara {drinking). 
Sit down ; we'll soon be pals. 

Twitters. Sit down, dear. {Clara sils amazed.) 

Hunker. Two young people like us can't be thrown to- 
gether in a house without liking each other pretty well ? 

Clara {/o Twitters). I cannot submit to this, papa. 

Twitters {to Clat-a). We should never take offence when 
none is meant, dear. 

Hunker. I'm an adventurous cuss. Miss Clara — just on 
from Arizona to float a gold mine on the eastern market. 
Going to let Twitters in at bed-rock prices — eh. Twitters .'* 

Twitters. Yes, yes, of course. 

Hunker. We had hard old sledding on the plains, at 
times. Miss Clara. 

Clara. Indeed, sir ! 

Hunker. Chased by Indians twenty miles, riding with 
Custer — you know Custer.'* Seventeen of them miles I had 
a bullet in my leg {starting to pull up his trouser leg) — 
want to see the scar 1 

Clara {with terror). No ! No ! • 

Hunker {pleased with himself). O, we're kindred spir- 
its ; we'll soon be friends. I like your New England coun- 
try. As Lady Franklin said to me, when we was taking 
supper together on the Oregon steamer. She was goin' to 
hunt up John's bones in Sitka, where I kept a hotel — 
•' Beans is a benevolent institution, Mr. Hunker," says she. 
" You're right. Lady F.," says I. Now speak up, if you're 
talked to death. Miss Clara. 

Clara. I have nothing to say, 

Hunker. All right. I can talk right along, — keep it up 
forever. By George, it would be funny if you and I should 
conclude to keep it up forever — eh, Clara ? 

Clara. I don't understand this man, papa. 

Twitters. He is a rough diamond, dear. 



POISON. " 19 

Clara. Then he ought to be "cut." 

Hunker. Why, make a match of it. 

Clara {aside). O dear. I shall be ill, really. I must 
send for Charles. {Alotid.) Papa, I don't feel well. 

Twitters {stariino^). Eh, my dear ! What's the matter ? 

Clara. I have a head-ache. — 

Hunker. Have you been eating sugar } 

Twitters {agonized). I fear so. 

Hunker. Does your throat burn ? 

Clara {faintly). Yes, yes, I want to lie down {they lead 
her to sofa). 

Hunker. My God! It's the symptoms — see what 
you've done ! 

Twitters. I, you miserable man ! Behold your work ! 

Hunker. No time for fooling, Twitters. I know the an- 
tidote. I'll run to the nearest apothecary — it's too bad, I 
vow ! Here, give me sixty cents. {Exit.) 

Twitters. There you are, my poor child ! {Gets towel, 
which he wets with cologne and puts to her head.) Does that 
help you 1 

Clara. O papa. It doesn't make me any better ! Send 
for the doctor! 

Twitters. Yes, yes. {Aside) If the doctor should dis- 
cover poisoning ! If it should be traced to mc ! 

Clara {faintly). Dr. Squillcox — the other one's away. 

Mother {without). Where is Twitters ? I will see 
him. {Enter Mother.) 

Mother. You are here — I entered the hushed chamber 
where all that was mortal of the sainted Elijah Paddy was 
lying — 

Twitters. Don't talk of death. 

Mother. Overcome by emotion, I averted my head, and 
blindly removing the brown paper wrapping, I placed upon 
the heart of the departed what I thought to be a floral trib- 
ute — a lovely anchor, expressive of hope and christian res- 
ignation — 

Twitters. Can't you see that poor Clara is ill t Be still, 
woman. 

Mother. Who insults me by calling me woman ? I 
stood with averted face. A stir of excitement thrilled the 



20 POISON. 

hushed and weeping assembly as my offerino^ was seen. 
Touched by this appreciation of my tribute, I turned to take 
a last view of all that was earthly of the departed — there, 
amid a heap of roses and camellias lay those odious boots. 
{Pulling them fro)n under her cloak, holding them at arm's 
lenoth and throwing them down.) Without a word I fled. 
I am undone forever. 

Twitters. Say no more of boots. Look at my suffering 
child and hold your peace. 

Mother. I need no word from you to succor my de- 
parted Sarah's child {walking towards the conch. She 
snatches at Twitters' hand). Your allopathic doses are 
killing her {producing phial). These pellets will cure her 
{starts to give Cl^AKA pills). 

Twitters. No sugar pills ! For heaven's sake, no 
sugar ! 

Mother {severely). These are rendered efficacious by an 
infinitesimal reduction of arsenic. 

Twitters {in agony). Give them to me. {St?'uggling 
with her.) 

Mother. Prejudiced monster. Like cures like. {They 
struggle for the phial. Twitters wrenches it away and flings 
it into the fire-place. MotJier stands panting with rage.) 

{Enter an Officer of the Law.) 

Officer. Theophilus Twitters ? 

Twitters {excited). Yes, what is it ? 

Officer. I arrest you, in the name of the Commonwealth 
of Massachusetts. 

Twitters {agoftized). The blow is fallen ! 

Mother {between horj^or and Joy). O that I should have 
lived to see this day ! {C?-ossing to Clara.) My poor child, 
your mother's mother will care for you, while your sinful par- 
ent expiates his crimes ! 

Clara {aside). Why doesn't Charles come ? 

Twitters {^imploring). Officer, a few moments with my 
suiTering child. 

Officer. Couldn't think of it. Get your hat. 

{Enter Hunker, hastily, followed by Charles). 



POISON. 21 

Hunker {recognizhig^ Officer, aside). Thunder. There's 
a copp. {Aloud, with tremor.) What's wanted .'* 

Officer (sejitentiously). Twitters. 

Charles {coming forward). And this man, too — 

Hunker {imploring). Shut up ! I'll fix things ! 

Charles. A few weeks ago he came to me and offered 
me a large sum for twelve pounds of arsenic — to kill rats, 
he said, but — 

Clara {who has risen iti her excitement). But, what ? 

Twitters {trembling with exciteynettt). But what, Charles .'' 

Charles. But that he might not go elsewhere — for I 
saw that his end was crime — I sold \{\m powdered sngar ! 

Twitters. Powdered sugar ! A mountain has rolled off 
my breast ! YouYe an angel, Charles ! 

Hunker {enraged). Yoti' re a damned mean apothecary ! 

Twitters. Officer, you don't want me now ? 

Officer. I don't see how all this makes any difference 
in tlie suit of Grimsby et al. v. Twitters, — criminal libel. 

Twitters. Grimsby & Weeper ! 

Officer. Them's the people. You called them rascally 
swindlers. 

Mother. The makers of my tribute. 

Twitters. They didn't like my letter? 

Officer. That's so. But you're a stampy old duffer. 
This gentleman {pointing to Charles) will go surety on 
your bond .'' 

Hunker. Good day, gents and ladies {starts to go. To 
Clara). Now our match is off, you've got well putty quick. 
Good day. 

Officer. See here {tonchitig his shoulder). 

Hunker. I aint libelled nobody. 

Officer. Dry up ! Come along with me. I want your 
phiz in the rogues' gallery. 

Hunker {putting hat on one side). I guess I can screw 
it up so as you won't know it again. I say, Twitters, I've 
made a suit of clothes out of this, anyhow. {Exeunt.) 

Twitters {to Clara). Ah, you sly puss ! Charles was 
the medicine you needed ! Here, Charles, she's your's and 
half my fortune with her. Thank heaven, I'm not t. blear- 
eyed Borgia, chumming with a prison-bird. 



22 POISON. 

Clara. I don't understand you, papa. 

Twitters. No reason you should, my dear. Everything 
is bright and happy, excepting that I shall lose my little girl 
and be left all alone. 

Mother {einbracing hwt). I will take her place, Theoph- 
ilus. The past shall be forgotten. I will never desert the 
lonely husband of my departed Sarah. 

Twitters {shaki?tg her off. To himself). I shall have to 
send for Hunker. 



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The Last Loaf. 5 male, 3 female char. 15 

In One Act. 
Stand by the Flag. 5 male char, c . 15 
The Tempter, 3 male, i female char. 15 



COMEDIES AND FARCES. 



A. mysterious Disappearance. 4 

male, 3 female char 15 

Paddle Youi* Own Canoe. 7 male, 

3 female char 15 

A. Drop too Mttch. 4 male, 2 female 
characters 15 

A. Little More Cider. 5 male, 3 fe- 
male char 

A Thorn Among the Roses. 2 male, 6 
female char 

Never Say Die. 3 male, 3 female char. 

Seeing the Elephant. 6 male, 3 female 
char 

The Boston Dip. 4 male, 3 female chnr. 

The Duchess of Dublin. 6 male, 4 fe- 
male char 

Thirty Minutes for Refresh iients. 

4 male, 3 female char. 15 

We're all Teetotalers, 4 male, 2 fe- 
male char 15 

Maie Characters Only. 

A Clo§e Shave. 6 char. 15 

A Public Benefactor. 6 char 15 

A Sea of Troubles. 8 char 15 



IS 



IS 



I COMEDIES^ &c., continued. 

Male Characters Only. 
I A Tender Attachment. 7 char. . . , 
j Coals of Fire. 6 char. , 

Freedom of the Press. 8 char. . . . 
j Shall Our MothiPirs Tote P u char. 
I Gentlemen of the Jury. 12 char. ^ . 
. Humors of the Strike. 8 char. . . 

My Uncle the Captain. 6 char. . . 
\ New Brooms Sweep Clean. 6 char. . 

The Great Elixir. 9 char 

The Hypochondriac. 5 char 

The Man with the Demijohn, 4 
char. . . 

The Runaways. 4 char 

The Thief of Time. 6 char. . . . 

Wanted, a Male Cook. 4 char. , . , 

Female Characters Only, 
A Love of a Bonnet. - 5 char. . 
A Precious Pickle. 6 char. .... 

No Cure no Pay. 7 char. 

The Champion of Her Sex. 8 char. . 
The Greatest Plague IN Life. 8cha. 

The Gkecian Bend. 7 char 

The Red Chignon. 6 char. .... 
Using the Weed. 7 char. 

ALLEGORIES. 

Arranged for Musie^Tumd^ Tableaux. 

Lightheakt's Pilgrimage. 8 female 
char 

The Revolt of the Bees. 9 female 
char 

The Sculptor's Triumph, i male, 4 fe- 
male char 

The Tournament of Idylcourt. 10 
female char 

Thf >yAR of the Roses. 8 female char. 

MUSICAL A17D LRAHATIC. 

An Original Idea, i male, 1 female 

char, 

Bonbons ; or, the Paint King. 6 male, 

1 female char. 

Capuletta ; or, Romeo and Juliet 

Restored. 3 male, i female char. . 

Santa Claus' Frolics 

Snow-bound ; or, Alonzo the Brave 

and the Fair Imogene. 3 male, x 

female char 

The Merry Christmas of the Old 

Woman who lived in a Shoe. . . 
The Pedler of Very Nice. 7 male 

char • 

The Seven Ages. A Tableau Entertam- 

ment. Numerous male and female char. 
Too Late for the Train. 2 male char. 
Thb Visions of Freedom, ii female 



Geo. M. Baker & Co., 41 Franklin St., Boston 



Baker's Humorous Dialogues. 
Baker's Hunnorous Dialogues, 



Male characters only. 25 centa. 
Female characters only. 26 centa. 



